


Confessional Correspondence

by JazzRaft



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst and Humor, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Long-Distance Friendship, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 20:46:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14245413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JazzRaft/pseuds/JazzRaft
Summary: Nyx isn't quite sure what possessed him to send a message to the Oracle. He's not sure what he expects her to say. And he's really not sure why she bothered to take the time to write him back at all. Let alone more than once. And let alone with the guidance he desperately needed to read.





	Confessional Correspondence

**Author's Note:**

> written for an anonymous request [here](http://jazzraft.tumblr.com/post/172699062902/i-love-your-fics-so-much-can-i-request-nyx)

_Luna,_

_I’m sorry that it’s taken me so long to write back. I hope you didn’t worry. Things have been pretty hectic around here. Nothing bad or anything! Just busy. Really busy._

_A lot’s happened since we last talked! I added a few of Prompto’s pictures to cover some of it in case I forget something._

_Thanks for the birthday present! I’m amazed that Umbra didn’t eat the whole package. I know I sure did! You’ve got to tell me more about the fish you get in Tenebrae. The stuff we have here is great, but that sushi was like nothing I’d ever had before! Do you think it has to do with being handled by a Messenger and an Oracle? Or are you and Gentiana just that good?_

_The guys got me some really nice things, too (there’s a picture). Took me to a bunch of my favorite places around the city. It was nice and quiet, which I like._

_The day after was the whole citywide ceremonial thing. You probably saw it broadcast, right? The people here are mostly nice about it, but it’s still stressful. All that security and costumes and people I don’t know. You’re a lot better at this kind of thing than I am. I still remember your last broadcast. Do you know what to say by yourself or do you have someone write it down for you like I do? Because you’d never know if it was. I don’t know how you do it!_

_Once the birthday business was over, it was back to the regular Council attendance and prince practice. I know you and everyone else keeps saying that the Council is crucial to keeping Insomnia free, but damn, it’s really hard to understand why when I’m sitting in there and listening to them yell over each other about nothing._

_I’m not cut out for politics and yeah, I know I’ve been saying that for years. I like fighting better. I’ve still been training with Dad’s Kingsglaive. It can be scary sometimes, but it’s fun once I get the handle of the warping tricks they show me._

_Other than that, it’s just been a lot of the same. More meetings and training and I just fell behind on a bunch of stuff. I think Umbra was getting annoyed with me that I hadn’t sent him back to you yet. I hope that I haven’t annoyed you, too! And I hope that everything’s been okay on your end since._

_Talk to you soon? Sooner than I did?_

_Noctis._

“Now Umbra, why would you make him worry like that?”

The shaggy Messenger huffed into his paws and remained otherwise unrepentant. Luna smiled and scratched his head, giving his ear a light tug to scold him for his unwarranted guilt-tripping. She hadn’t worried herself too badly, wondering about Noctis’s delayed response. She knew that he was safe so long as he was among his friends and his father and underneath the protection of Insomnia’s Wall.

Though she still sympathized with his circumstances. Noctis had never taken to the Crown as well as his forebears – and it wasn’t even yet his to wear. And while Luna only knew of the Lucian Council through distant study and filtered newscasts, she could imagine how trying a room full of people debating politics could be for someone like Noctis. He had a gentle heart, one better suited to seaside lounging and friendly outings. She couldn’t say she objected to either of those ideas herself some days.

Luna reached for a pen and turned the page. And she was surprised to find that Noct’s was not the only correspondence waiting for her to read.

A small, folded note was creased between the pages, coffee-stained and crumpled, the notebook lines of it made crooked with the harsh treatment. Luna assumed it to be a postscript from Noctis, hastily shoved into Umbra’s sash just as he was on his way out from Insomnia. The unfamiliar chicken scratch which greeted her promptly told her otherwise.

_Hey. I’m probably breaking every rule of every book here and the Astrals might smite me just for saying hi to the Oracle, but fuck it._ (The expletive was scribbled out. As if she couldn’t read between the frantic criss-cross of lines. Or never saw the word “fuck” before.) _Whatever. I’m more worried if you or Noct will mind. I train Noct sometimes, that’s how I know him. Probably shouldn’t have done this, but just wanted to give it a shot. Just to see. I dunno what though._

The note was so crumbled and worn that Luna expected this person had talked themselves out of sending it more than once. Certainly more than twice. Luna smoothed it out against the notebook as best she could, studying the smudges and the stains and seeing all the strife that went into deciding on spiriting the message away with Noct’s letter.

“Awfully generous of you to share, Umbra,” she teased. She got nothing in response but a fluffy cold shoulder and a swish of his tail.

_“I’m more worried if you or Noct will mind.”_ Such fretful folk from Lucis. The duplicity didn’t bother her. Not so much as the familiarity with which this stranger referred to their prince did. They “trained him sometimes,” was it then Crownsguard or Kingsglaive? What could she ask if it was either?

Luna tapped her pen against the note. She turned it over and started to write.

* * *

Nyx didn’t actually remember sending the note.

He remembered always seeing the dog around the Citadel. And, more immediately, he remembered having to wrangle the rowdy creature out of the kitchens a few times when they were both younger. He remembered his aching muscles at the end of marathon sprints through the old Queen’s gardens, tasked with trying to tackle the hellacious hound to heel. He remembered the quiet contention between himself and the canine – and the extra drinks he would order from Yama at the end of a day army-crawling through bushes and warping along tree branches trying to catch the damnable creature.

He saw Umbra more often once the Prince started practicing underneath the Kingsglaive. The dog parked it on the stairs and toasted away in the sun while his master sweated it out on the sands. He was quieter now that he was older – worked off all that adolescent energy by putting Nyx through his paces, he supposed.

It was hard for him to think of Umbra as anything more than a pet. Especially not as some celestial spirit-dog sent down from the gods to ferry messages between their anointed royals. It was harder still to think of Noctis as anything of the sort, too.

Nyx liked the kid, which was as much of a surprise to him as Noct’s aptitude for warping – which in hindsight, Nyx supposed shouldn’t have been _that_ much of a surprise; Noct was the King’s son, after all. That was what was so hard to believe though. That Noctis was royalty was obvious from his abilities and his genetics alone. But his temperament was so much different than what Nyx expected when he was briefed on the lessons.

Noctis was fun. Shy, but spirited. He didn’t talk down to his tutors or expect special treatment or give up after the first crash into the dust. He was determined to learn, but also his biggest critic. Half of his tutelage was unlearning his own doubts in order to achieve the distances he was expected to reach.

They had a good relationship, Nyx thought. Good enough to trade stories over cooldowns in the shade, and poke and prod and tease each other like friends more than mere colleagues. Enough for Noctis to tell him a little more about Umbra when Nyx relayed all the grievances he put him through as a puppy.

When asked about the little notebook poking from Umbra’s sash, Noctis would stutter and redden and mumble about his old friend Luna. The day Nyx connected the dots between pen-pal Luna and Princess _Lunafreya,_ the beloved Oracle of Tenebrae… Well, it wasn’t his proudest revelation, given how long it took him to figure it out.

It was part curiosity and part daring over the buzz of Friday night drinks at the Hut that ultimately tempted Nyx to challenge the authority of the gods. To his shock – and mortification when he remembered what he’d done – the Oracle wrote back.

He hadn’t even made it to Malbo Smul’s yet to get through one beer when Umbra had padded up to him with a vaguely familiar piece of paper held delicately in his muzzle. He couldn’t blame imagining the neat script on the back of the note on the alcohol, but he would most certainly blame the words if he ordered himself a second bottle later that night.

_To Anonymous,_

_I am pleased to meet you and admire your bravery. It takes much and more of it to risk the wrath of the gods. But worry not. I sense that you shall be forgiven for such a brazen act of postal service rebellion, by the Astrals as well as by Noctis. And, as you can surmise, by myself, included._

_Noctis mentions his training only ever briefly, but sounds as if he enjoys it a great deal. Are you of the Kingsglaive, then? Have I you to thank for helping his experience to be a pleasant one? If I may – and if you are – I humbly ask that you continue to keep him safe, as well as happy with his practice._

_I was intrigued to find your note, though your words convey a certain amount of uncertainty. I pray that your sight affords you the clarity which you seek. If there are any more words that I could send to aid you, you are welcome to write me again, without fear of any mortal smiting, divine or otherwise._

_Regards,  
Lunafreya._

Nyx laughed. He wasn’t entirely sure why. Maybe it was the sincere wit of her forgiveness or the sheer ridiculousness of his own actions that got him. Or maybe it was her blunt perception, reading so diligently between the lines the things that Nyx didn’t even know he wanted to ask that made him nervous enough to laugh.

He’d never been much for faith. Not the same sort that deified children and ripped whole nations asunder for the boon of the gods. And especially not after Selena had died with the rest of Galahd.

Nyx patted Umbra on the head and took the note home with him. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do with it when he got there. Burning it would probably be the wisest choice; pretend that he’d never been stupid enough to intrude on the childhood correspondence of his royal charge and ask for absolution from a stranger from another land. As if he was as desperate as the fawning folk of faithful blindness to have all their sins purged away with the light of the Oracle.

Nyx set the note on his desk and turned right around to meet his friends down in the district. He fully intended to let Crowe treat them all with some well-deserved drinks, and then let the cheap beer muzzy up any thought of responding.

But the note was still there when he got home.

And while he was two bottles in, he had a few things to say.

* * *

_Lunafreya,_

_You’ll have to forgive me for the blasphemy, but I really don’t give a shit about the gods. Bunch of high and mighty assholes throwing their weight around just because they’re big, if you ask me. Which you didn’t so… I don’t know why I bothered saying that._

_Yeah, I’m Kingsglaive. I don’t know how much credit I can take for Noct. He’s talented all on his own. Hard on himself though. I do what I can to help with that. Hopefully it’s enough._

_Like I said, I don’t know what I was expecting when I wrote you. Not a reply, that’s for sure. And definitely not a nice one. You’re not what I expected. In a good way. I think. I don’t know… I don’t know a lot of things. Like what happens after we die. Like whether or not you can see the other side because you’re the Oracle and that’s your job or something, right? Can you just talk to the Astrals? Or is there more you can see that the rest of us can’t?_

_Is it good? The other side? Do the Astrals even care about our souls? Or are we just left to wander where they don’t have to look at us anymore. All the people that died for the Empire’s war… Is there a place for them over there? Are they safe? Are they happy? Or did they just trade one hell for another?_

* * *

_Dear Anonymous,_

_You ask a great deal of questions. All of which are important. Many of which have been asked since time immemorial. Some of which I believe I can answer. Perhaps not all, but it is my hope that they will be enough to soothe your own soul, if only a little._

_You are not what I expected either. You’re rather crass and very curious, but I appreciate that. You’re honest, and honesty is difficult to come by in these times. I am grateful to you for guiding Noctis. For your friendship, I feel I owe you as honest of answers as your questions deserve._

_Please, do not ask forgiveness for questioning the gods. To question is to be human, and there is no shame in that. As Oracle, it is my duty to make the will of the gods known to mankind. It is no more and no less than that. You need not fear any judgment from me._

_Death is a difficult question to answer. While I may hear the voices of the gods, I cannot see past them. I have the power to ease the suffering of the living, but not those dead. However, from what I have been allowed to see of the Astrals and their realm, it is a quiet existence. It is my hope that the Astral Realm serves as a safe harbor for the souls of the departed, as well._

_I cannot assure you for certain that those you have lost are in one place or another. But it is my belief that there is no fear in death. I cannot force you to believe the same, and I am aware that words without proof often come as little comfort for grief. Your answers lie in what you believe, not in the beliefs of others that tell you what you should._

_I am sorry that I cannot be of more help to you. I will beseech the gods for guidance in this matter on your behalf, but I cannot guarantee the answers you seek._

_I hope to hear from you again._

_Regards,  
Lunafreya_

Nyx ran a thumb across Selena’s face, folded and faded and as old as Nyx felt. The Oracle’s elegant script whispered up from the desk.

It was a long time before he wrote back.

* * *

Two weeks later, after three round trips from Umbra and no secret notes tumbling around in his sash, Luna finally received a response.

She bit her lip and sat at her vanity, staring at the folded piece of paper and praying that she had said the right things. Few words were right for the death of a loved one. The nameless glaive had a soul in conflict, she could read that well enough. She recognized it well. Her brother had felt much the same after their mother died. She hadn’t been able to save him from the darkness his grief took him to. She feared much of the same for this stranger.

Luna took a breath, braced herself with a glance at her reflection, and read.

_Hey. Sorry to have left you hanging. The truth’s a real bitch. Had to deal with it for a while. Thanks for not bullshitting me though. I was kind of expecting you to just say that I should have faith in the gods and it would all turn out dandy. We were both kind of expecting a lot of things different about each other, huh?_

_I don’t really know what I was looking for when I sent you that first note. I’ll be honest, I’m still not sure. I think that’s because you’re right. This is something I have to find for myself. I’ve always known that, I think. But I guess it takes hearing it in the words of a stranger who’s the authority on these things to really get it, y’know?_

_I’m not sure if I’ll write again and you don’t have to write me back, but I just wanted to say thanks. I really mean that. And I hope that this stalemate with the Empire ends within our lifetime. Maybe then you could visit Insomnia. I know Noct misses you. And maybe we’ll get to meet in person one day. I can thank you the right way then. Maybe I’ll have my answers by then, too._

_Thanks again._

Luna breathed out slowly, watching her chest contract in the mirror. Her reflection looked more confident than she felt. She didn’t feel like she’d accomplished as much with her wayward correspondent as either of them may have liked. And whether her prayers for this stranger fell on listening ears, she could not say.

She debated with her reflection for a long while about whether or not it would be prudent to write back. She wasn’t certain that there was any more either of them could say. And yet, it felt like there was still so much more that they should.

* * *

_Dearest Anonymous,_

_I hope that this letter finds you better than the last._

_I know that it is not enough, nor will it ever be, but I have prayed for your loss and implored everlasting peace for those souls which you grieve. I can only hope that they were heard._

_In the time it has taken me to find the words to write back, I am reminded that hope is the better answer for belief. Hope is greater than any faith imposed by any entity larger than ourselves. Should we call that blasphemy, do you think? I don’t think the gods would be very happy with me if they read that. Perhaps I’ll end up being the one who is smote after all. Wouldn’t that be a twist?_

_Teasing aside, I’d like to amend my previous advice. Hope is the truest faith you can believe in. It is not reliant on a single object, it is not derived from a written word, and it is not biased towards one soul over another. It does not discriminate. There are no laws by which it should be abided._

_If this is to be the last letter I send you, these are the words I would like to be the last. Do not lose hope. Not in yourself and not in your lost loved ones. It is my hope that you are able to find peace in this. When I am lost, it is always hope that finds me again._

_May it find you, as well. And may we one day find each other to talk of this more._

_Fondest Regards,  
Lunafreya_

“Doesn’t give up, does she?” Nyx laughed.

He dropped the letter into his lap and stared up at the sky. Umbra sat patiently at his side, such a dramatic change from the rebellious puppy that caused him so much strife.

The arena was empty. He’d just finished up with Noctis, catching his breath against the stone pillar in the center. The Prince had gone off with his friends, Nyx’s own were clocking out, and the Citadel was taking its last long breath of day before night fell. He could just make out the ghostly shade of the moon rising behind the Wall, rippling with the King’s light.

_Hope, huh?_

It hadn’t gotten him much. But then, he supposed he never really tried it. Hope was hard to come by when he didn’t know what it looked like. Though, if seeing was believing, he supposed he wasn’t really listening to the Oracle’s instructions then, was he?

Nyx closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He hoped that it was enough. He hoped that it was what Selena would have wanted.

* * *

_Thank you. I hope to see you soon._

_\--- Anonymous_


End file.
